


Frisky Business

by AbaddonsLittleWItch, FreyaS



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Bottom Tony Stark, Jealous Steve, M/M, Posessive Steve, Protective Steve Rogers, Teasing, Tony is a Cocktease, Tony is a Twink, Top Steve Rogers, Underage - Freeform, cocktease, young Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbaddonsLittleWItch/pseuds/AbaddonsLittleWItch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaS/pseuds/FreyaS
Summary: After a fight with Loki gone poorly, Tony wakes up to find he's seventeen years old again. Steven I'm-As-Noble-As-The-Day-Is-Long Rogers is overwhelmed with attraction and spends his days fighting it, but Tony, who's always had a bad mouth and knows how to use it, refuses to make it easy on him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to young RDJ for looking like That and inspiring this fic. Title is pun off Risky Business, but that's its only relation to the fic. This is mostly going to be shameless porn, with a little plot thrown in for texture, but nothing truly sexual happens until Tony is eighteen again.

The spell hit him square in the chest, a bolt of light shot from Loki’s hands. He flew back into a wall, the suit taking the most of the impact. He tried to shake it off, but something felt wrong. Something unrelated to his suit, an itching under his skin he couldn't shake, grating along his nerves, making his jaw clench with pain.

The comms filled with noise as the rest of the team watched him go down.

“Iron Man, check in!” Natasha called, the first to see Tony go down.  
“Iron Man’s down!” Clint, calling for help.  
“Tony!” Steve, loudest of all, rushing to his side while Thor once again went toe to toe with his brother. Thor swung his hammer and flew at his brother, a promise of pain in his eyes, but in a blink, the Trickster was gone. Leaving Tony crumpled against a wall, deathly still.

Tony heard the sounds of his team, their words registering in his brain, but they made no sense. He was too filled with tingling sensations, white noise rushing in his ears as his blood pumped furiously. Something in his body was changing, something that wasn’t painful but that left him shivering to his bones. He couldn’t speak, paralyzed by whatever magic Loki had thrown at him. The team rushed to his side, too worried to question where Loki had gone.

“I need the helicarrier, now! Iron Man’s down!” Natasha’s voice was calm but urgent. Within seconds the sounds of the engines were heard overhead, and the team focused their attention fully on Tony.

Steve was the first to reach him and Tony knew he should flip his face plate up to reassure the other man. But he found himself strangely listless, unable to even ask J.A.R.V.I.S for help. He tried to tell his team he was fine, as usual, but he couldn’t seem to move his lips.

“Tony!” Steve shouted, his voice reverberating over the comms. He was worried, Tony could hear it in his voice, and he tired, desperately, to say something, anything. He wanted to reassure Steve, tell him it was okay, that he would be fine, but words were too far beyond him. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion hit him then, all his energy draining away in seconds, and he could feel consciousness slipping away.

Steve’s voice was angry, scared, desperate, as he shouted, “Tony! Talk to me damn it!” 

Language, Tony giggled in his head. It was the last thought he had before his eyes slipped shut.

Steve realized quickly that Tony was unresponsive, so he hefted the man, Iron Man suit and all, into his arms and walked purposely towards the evac site. The rest of the team followed behind him, while Thor prepared to leave, promising to track down his brother.

The deck was rushing with activity as they boarded, SHIELD medical staff at the ready. Steve brushed them aside, trusting only himself and his team with Tony’s safety at that moment. He placed the armor clad man on the floor and immediately began to disengage the manual latches for the armor, ignoring the rest of the teams confused looks. Tony had told him how to do this in the event of emergency. He had hoped he would never have to use the knowledge but he had dutifully memorized the careful instructions Tony had given him. He started on the chest plate first, worried that Tony’s arc reactor had been compromised by whatever spell Loki had cast, but he found no immediate visible damage.

He was reassured by the bright blue glow he found, and the steady rise and fall of Tony’s chest, though something seemed off. Had Tony’s chest always been this small?, he wondered. He dismissed the thought, more worried about the state of the rest of Tony’s body. He moved on to the rest of the suit, revealing Tony’s suspiciously thin arms and legs. Steve frowned in confusion as more and more of Tony’s body was revealed. While he knew Tony wasn’t as muscular as himself or Thor, Tony seemed more delicate than he remembered. He knew he was bigger than Tony, but not to this degree; he could now easily encompass both the other man’s wrists in one hand.

He undid the helmet last, carefully removing the faceplate. When Tony’s face was finally revealed, Steve almost dropped the armor in surprise. The goatee was gone. The moustache was gone. His sharp angled cheek bones were full and filled out, softer looking than the more weathered features Steve was used to. His eyes were closed and long, sinful looking lashes splashed over his cheeks. Steve knew that if he opened them, the laugh lines and crow’s feet would be gone; because he wasn’t looking at the Tony Stark he knew anymore. He was looking at a teenager.

Steve reeled back in shock, hardly noticing as the rest of the team crowded around him to check on Tony. He felt rather than heard their gasps, shock reverberating through them as they took in the sight. Clint was the first to break the tense silence, “Is that Stark?”

“It’s him. He looks exactly like he did when he attended MIT,” Natasha confirmed.

Steve’s voice was rough, strangled with an emotion he couldn’t name as he whispered, “Yeah. Over twenty years ago.”


	2. Chapter 2

The fact that something was wrong with Tony was immediately obvious to the medical staff standing by. They stepped in without protest from Steve and brought him swiftly to the med bay, the team hot on their heels. They wasted no time in hooking him up to a heart monitor, covering his tiny chest in leads. Steve felt something in him stir as the newfound slightness of Tony’s chest was once again revealed. Tony remained unconscious and non-responsive throughout the poking and prodding; he was still out when the nurses finished their last lab draw, checked his vital signs one more time, and left.

The minutes snailed past, turning into hours, Steve’s worry growing with each passing one as Tony remained unconscious. By the fourth hour, he realized that Tony wasn’t going to be waking up any time soon and dismissed the rest of the team. They protested minorly at first, then tried to convince Steve leave with them, but he stubbornly refused to move. He stayed, immobile, outside Tony’s room, still dressed in his dirty combat gear, worry and fear churning in his gut. He moved only when someone walked in or out of Tony’s room, head snapping up, eyes pinning them, begging for information, but they all ignored him.

He’d fallen into semi-consciousness, his thoughts reduced to a constant static worry, when a voice finally interrupted him.

“You should get some rest, Steve.” Steve looked up, not surprised to find Pepper in front of him. She was smartly dressed in one of her impeccable skirt suits, a folder full of paperwork in her arms.

Steve bit his lip guiltily, realizing he hadn’t thought to call her. S.H.I.E.L.D must have instead, bringing her in as Tony’s Power of Attorney.

“If it’s all the same to you, Ma’am, I’d rather wait out here. I’d like to be here for any news,” Steve said, meeting Pepper’s eyes with a determined look in his own.

Pepper considered him, took in his tense shoulders and the nervous tick of his leg. He looked exhausted but alert, as if he was ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. He clearly was deeply worried and while Pepper didn’t quite understand the relationship between Steve and Tony, she knew it ran deeper than mere friendship. As Tony’s ex, she used to wonder if she should be jealous. But she and Tony had fizzled out shortly after the battle of New York and now shared a close friendship and working relationship.

“Well, I wish I could give you some, but you probably know more than me,” Pepper sat down next to Steve and continued, “I just got a call that Tony appears to have regressed in age due to a spell cast by Thor’s brother. You know,” she laughed, “If someone had said that sentence to me two years ago, I’d have hung up on them.” “It’s a strange world we live in-” Steve cut himself off as he heard footsteps approaching them. They both looked up to see a man in a white lab coat, presumably one of Tony’s doctors.

“Miss Potts! Doctor Smith.” He smiled as he introduced himself. “I’d like to discuss Tony’s condition with you. Could we go somewhere more private?” He looked pointedly at Steve and motioned for Pepper to follow him into Tony’s room. Steve stood up angrily, ready to confront the doctor. He wasn’t going to wait in the hallway while they discussed Tony’s condition without him.

“Doctor Smith, Captain Rogers is Tony’s team leader,” Pepper cut in smoothly, eyeing Steve’s crossed arms and stubborn expression. “The nature of his condition will have an effect on the team, so I think it would be best if he’s also present. Check Tony’s records, I’m confident he’s listed as an approved person.” The doctor hesitated, but he didn’t seem interested in arguing with both Captain America and Pepper Potts. He opened the door to Tony’s room, allowing Steve to enter first.

Steve’s eyes were drawn immediately to the too still figure on the gurney. Wires stretched off him, each connected to a different beeping machine; an I.V. bag stoody nearby, waiting to be hooked up to the lead in Tony’s hand if needed. Someone had changed him into a hospital gown. The thin material hung from his small frame, all but engulfing him. He looked heartbreakingly young and frail, so different from the loud confident man Steve was accustomed to.

“Well, first off, the good news,” Doctor Smith began, “Mr. Stark is a perfectly healthy adolescent male. His vital signs are normal and stable and all lab results came back clean. We checked his heart, too, and there’s no apparent damage. It would seem that he’s simply...a young man again. We did run a DNA sample, to be certain, and it is a match. This is Tony Stark. Our guess is that he’s somewhere around seventeen years of age, but we have no way to know for sure.” He paused before continuing thoughtfully, “You know, it’s fascinating, when he regressed in age his arc reactor actually shrank with him. I can’t even imagine what would have-”

Steve cut him off, his voice low and cold. “If he’s perfectly healthy, why isn’t he awake?”

“Exhaustion, Captain, plain and simple. The spell sapped all of his energy, used up all the sugar and calories his body had stored to change him. He’s simply sleeping and I expect him to have quite the appetite when he wakes up. We’ll be hooking up his I.V. with saline in the meantime to keep him hydrated.”

Steve sagged in relief, his shoulders screaming as he finally dropped them after nearly six hours of tense worry.

“What can we do to change him back? Is this permanent?” Pepper demanded. The doctor shrugged helplessly.

“That’s the bad news. I’m sorry Miss Potts, but we’re not experts on magic. All we can tell you is that Mr. Stark is in good health and he should wake up naturally in a few hours.”

Steve tuned out the conversation; he’d gotten the information he was most concerned with. Slowly, he approached Tony’s bedside. He’d been too frantic earlier to really look at Tony’s face, too shocked by the transformation. Now, however, he had a moment to catalogue the changes in the young sleeping figure.

Tony’s hair was still the same, messily curling across his forehead, but it was all a deep chestnut, every strand of grey erased. His face was baby smooth, rounder and fuller, free of wrinkles and signs of time. The lines around his eyes were gone, too, and thick full lashes rested over his cheeks, giving him the appearance of a sleeping angel. The rest of his face was bare, free of his usual Van Dyke. The lack of it made him seem more vulnerable, the delicate bone structure of his face exposed without a buffer.

It was then that Steve noticed that Tony’s lips were also uncovered and unconsciously licked his own as he took in the sight. They looked pinker, fuller, softer than usual. The older man tended to bite his lips while he worked, leaving them chapped and often split. This younger version, though, had soft, full lips, untouched by worry and anxiety. Steve was hit with an overwhelming urge to touch them then, to see if they were as soft as they looked. He found himself moving his hand without his conscious mind’s permission, only noticing when it was next to Tony’s face; he aborted the gesture before he could make contact, sharply drawing his hand away. Looking was okay, he told himself. Touching….touching was not.

Steve let his gaze continue its downward track over Tony’s body, trusting only his eyes to move over the prone form. Tony’s neck was slimer than Steve was accustomed to, the veins more visible when they didn’t have muscle over them. His shoulders were slender lacking the definition of his adult body, free from the ever present tension his older self seemed to carry.

Steve’s perusal stopped there, the rest of Tony’s body covered by his gown and blankets. His eyes jumped back up to the unfamiliar face, staring harder than was really necessary, trying to adjust to its features.

“Steve?”

Pepper’s voice interrupted him and he spun around at the sound of his name, catching her gaze. She looked like she’d been trying to get his attention and Steve flushed, feeling like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“I was just telling Doctor Smith that I have to leave. I still think you should as well; the medical staff will call us when Tony wakes up,” Pepper said.

Steve shook his head. “I want him to have someone familiar here when he wakes up. I’ll be fine. You have a company to run, Ma’am, I can stay with him.”

Pepper hesitated but took in his determined face and the arms folding over his chest and decided not to argue with him. “Doctor Smith said that there is a chance that Tony won’t have any of his adult memories when he wakes, Captain. I’ve called Colonel Rhodes to see if he can come in. If Tony really is seventeen, he’ll remember him.”

Steve jerked in surprise, arms falling to his sides. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that Loki’s spell could have de-aged Tony mentally as well as physically. Suddenly he began to doubt if it really was a good idea for him to stay. If Tony woke up and didn’t remember anything or anyone after age seventeen, waking up to a very much alive Captain America would probably shock him back into unconsciousness.

“How long until Colonel Rhodes arrives?” Steve asked.

“He was on an Air Force base out in California, but he’s enroute to New York now. He might not arrive before Tony wakes up, though.”

Steve nodded, coming to a decision. It might not be ideal for an unassuming Tony to wake up in the presence of a living legend, but Steve would be damned if he woke up alone.

“I’ll stay here until Colonel Rhodes arrives. There’s also a good chance that Thor will have tracked down his brother before Tony wakes up, and I’d like to be here for that, too.”

With that, Steve drew up a chair to Tony’s bedside, thankful he could wait in the room now. Doctor Smith made a noise, as though he wanted to protest, but was cut off by Pepper. After a moment, both of them left the room, leaving Steve to his vigil.

When he was sure they were both gone, Steve tentatively reached for one of Tony’s hands, his own looking massive in comparison. Tony’s hands felt different as he touched them, foreign...the hands of a stranger. Where before there had been calluses on his fingers, there was now only smooth skin. It felt soft as Steve’s hands travelled up, fingers wrapping around Tony’s wrist. The bones therein were fragile, delicate as bird bones, and Steve felt an irrational fear that he would snap one in half accidentally. He moved his hand away. Tony had always been small but it had been in a powerful, compact way. His time as an Avenger and his work in his lab meant that he was lean with strong muscles. Now, though, he looked waif thin, lithe and slender, without an ounce of muscle. His collarbones, exposed by the gaping neck of the hospital gown, were pronounced. It made him look...breakable. It made Steve want to gather him into his arms and protect him from the world.

Steve let out a sigh as the familiar feeling washed through him. It was not the first time he’d had such a thought about Tony Stark. Everyone knew how Steve felt about Tony, even, Steve suspected, Tony himself. They had been dancing around this thing between them almost since their first explosive meeting, but neither of them had yet made any move to change the nature of their relationship. A few times more recently, though, Steve had caught Tony looking at him with a strange look in his eyes. It had been equal parts contemplative and calculating and made Steve shiver every time he saw it. Deep in Steve’s bones, he’d known that their dance was coming to an end. He had found himself eager, looking forward to the conclusion, confident that Tony returned his feelings.

It was exactly their luck that fate- or rather a god- would throw a wrench into the plans.

Steve glanced again at Tony’s peaceful face and bit his lip.

He couldn’t ignore his growing guilt any longer and with a sigh he let the floodgates open and considered his deepest, darkest secret. He  _wanted_  Tony, even now. He wanted Tony in a depraved way that no grown man should ever want a seventeen year old. And he’d wanted him ever since he’d read S.H.I.E.L.D’s dossier.

The file had been as detailed as it should be for a man who’d spent his whole life in the public eye. When Steve had first read it he had judged Tony based on the tabloid articles and the evaluation Nat had written (something she still regretted). In those clippings, Steve had seen nothing but a rich, immature man who used his money to play at being a superhero. But the dossier had also included pictures of Tony through the years, captured by the tabloids, and even as Steve had judged and dismissed him, he’d felt a begrudging physical attraction grow.

One picture in particular had stood out to Steve, a candid of Tony with Rhodey.  _Stark, at MIT_  the note on the picture had said. Steve had stared at it for ages, taking in teenage Tony’s wild curling hair, his cocksure grin that exposed a gap in his teeth, and his mischievous eyes. Steve distinctly remembered the horror he’d felt when a wave of arousal had swept through him at the sight of such a young and carefree Tony. Tony had always been handsome but teenage Tony had been devastatingly beautiful.

Steve had shoved that dark want from his mind quickly, but he had kept the picture. And, as he’d gotten to know Tony as a teammate and then a friend, he had fallen in love with the man he slowly uncovered. His feelings had progressed, moving far deeper than simple lust, and now he both loved and wanted to make love to Tony.

But sometimes, on nights when his defenses were down and he was feeling particularly weak, he’d take out the picture. He would allow himself to imagine, to fantasize about meeting Tony when he was young. More than once he had guilty touched himself to the thoughts of what he would have done to teenage Tony. His mind had filled with images of kissing that grin, of running his tongue along the gap in his teeth, of running his hands through that wild hair and messing it even more. And for all that Captain America was a stalwart and true man, he was still a man.

While most of his fantasies had been innocent, more about protecting young Tony than ravaging him, occasionally, especially on days when Tony had been particularly sarcastic or insubordinate in the field, Steve found himself imaging darker scenarios. He imagined holding down that young, small body beneath his own, gripping those delicate wrists in one hand and forcing Tony to take whatever Steve saw fit to give him. Tony as an adult would have found a way to turn around the seduction, but in Steve’s fantasies, young Tony didn’t yet know how to use his body. He’d just whimper and shake and desperately take whatever Steve gave him. He would allow Steve to completely own him and trust Steve to give him pleasure without trying to take control.

Steve rarely allowed himself those fantasies and reasoned that they were harmless, since Tony was an adult and therefore the point was moot.

Now, however, as he sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair, Steve realized he was in trouble. Tony now looked exactly like he had in the old photograph. If the change was permanent or lasted longer than a day, Steve knew he couldn’t be around Tony. Even allowing himself to sit here and touch this Tony was horribly inappropriate. He felt like the universe was punishing him for his secret, playing a cruel joke, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Tony alone.

He was thankful when the door opened and Natasha slipped in, interrupting his depressing thoughts. She had taken a shower and changed out of her combat gear, opting for black jeans and a red blouse.

She tilted her head and nodded towards Tony, “How is he? Pepper told us what the doctors said.”  

“Nothing new, he’s still asleep.” Steve sighed and belatedly dropped Tony’s hand. Nat gave him a knowing look that he chose to ignore.

“Is Thor back yet?”

Natasha shook her head. “No, and he hasn’t checked in either. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. But I’ll take the silver lining of Tony at least being healthy.”

“He looks so young,” She mused, walking closer to the bed to examine him. “I’ve seen pictures of him you know. I had to know everything about him when I was assessing him for S.H.I.E.L.D. It always confused me how such an innocent looking child turned into the man we know. He looks so fragile, I don’t know how anyone could ever hurt him.”

Steve shifted nervously in his chair, grateful that Natasha couldn’t read his mind. He cleared his throat and avoided her gaze as she turned to look at him.

“How’s the rest of the team?” He asked, and then followed up, “Any injuries?”

Nat shook her head. “No, everyone else is fine but anxious to check on Tony. We’ve been told about the possibility of the loss of recent memories so we’re playing it safe. I’m the lucky one who won the right to check in.”

Steve smiled, warmed by the way the team worried over each other. Tony still didn’t believe they cared that much about him, despite hard evidence to the contrary. He threw his money and gadgets at them, as if afraid that without those, the team would abandon him. Steve knew he wasn’t alone in his frustrations over Tony’s lack of self worth.

Sure, Tony could be abrasive, arrogant, and sometimes mean. But he was also selfless, generous with both his time and wealth, and cared deeply for everyone, especially his team. He showed it time and time again but he never allowed them to return that care if he could help it.

“It’s almost a relief, isn’t it? He’s  _only_  deaged this time? He’s not hiding broken ribs while locking himself in his workshop. He’s not trying to walk off a sprained ankle. He’s even getting sleep!” Natasha mused. Steve started laughing, relieved to find humor from the situation.

“You’ve got a point. This is probably more sleep than he’s gotten in two weeks. And we’re supposed to feed him after he wakes up. He’s going to hate it.”

“Well, if we have to force feed - ” Natasha’s reply was interrupted by a low moan emanating from the bed and both she and Steve snapped their attention to it. Tony was beginning to stir, his eyes rapidly fluttering and his mouth twisting into a grimace. His hands groped for the I.V. lead in his hand and Steve reflexively reached out a hand, stopping him from ripping it out. Natasha rushed out of the room to find a doctor as Steve hovered anxiously, keeping Tony’s hand in his so he didn’t hurt himself.

“S’tve?” Tony mumbled, his voice soft and slurring. Steve felt a wave of relief hit him as he realized Tony still remembered him.

“Hey there, Shellhead. You gave us quite a scare. How are you feeling?” Steve asked. He tried to keep his voice light and not let any of the worry he felt slip into his tone.

“Tired. Head hurts,” Tony moaned, his voice ragged and hoarse. He grimaced again and brought the hand not in Steve’s grip to his head.

“You took quite a hit, I’m sure you’re sore everywhere,” Steve said, closely watching Tony of any signs of more serious side effects.

Doctor Smith swiftly entered the room then, followed closely by Natasha. She was on her phone, presumably updating the team on Tony’s condition.

“Ah, Mr. Stark, glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?” The doctor asked.

“Fine, I guess. Have a headache. Really hungry,” Tony mumbled. He still looked like he was dragging himself into wakefulness, fighting his body for it. He blinked several more times and then slowly tried to sit up. Steve let go of his wrist and moved to help him.

“That’s understandable, you’ve used a lot of energy. We’ll have food brought to you shortly. Is there anything else you’re feeling? Any gaps in memory, any significant pain?” The doctor pressed.

Tony didn’t answer, because wasn’t paying attention to the doctor anymore. His eyes were fully open and he was looking down at his chest and his arms in confusion, growing more and more alert as he studied his body. With his alertness came dawning comprehension followed closely by anger and agitation.

“What the fuck happened to me? Who shrank me?” He demanded. He brought his hands to his face, feeling for other changes. “Did someone shave me?” He asked, confused anger making his voice sharp.

“Mr. Stark, please calm down. We’ll try to explain everything to you. What is the last thing you remember?”

“The battle. We were fighting Thor’s diva brother and then… I think he shot me with something. Oh my god, what did he do?” Tony asked in horror.

The doctor paused, his expression clearly stating that he wanted to be anywhere other than here, about to drop a bomb on Tony Stark.

“Well, Mr. Stark, it appears that Loki’s spell has....regressed your physical age. You’re physically now around seventeen years old. It’s good to see that your memories aren’t similarly affected,” the doctor explained, trying in vain to throw a positive spin on things.

“Good? Good?! Nothing about this is good, Doctor Whoever! Where is he, where is that bastard? Steve, please, tell me you guys got him,” Tony turned to Steve, his face desperate, scared, and confused. Steve couldn't hide the guilt from showing plainly on his own face, and Tony, quick as always, picked up on Steve’s telling silence.

“So, I’m a kid again and the guy who did it is nowhere to be found? This is fantastic,” he paused as Steve sighed quietly, his eyes flashing with fury, “No really, Steve! It almost cracks the top three on the list of shitiest things to happen to me.”

He flopped back onto the bed, minor tantrum over, a scowl on his youthful face.

“Well, what’s the plan then? I can’t stay this age. The media would have a field day if they found out and I’m not going to pretend to be my own secret love child,” Tony muttered. He glared at the assembled party but the potency of it was dimmed by how adorable he looked, his arms petulantly crossed over his chest.

“Well, the current plan is to find Loki and make him reverse the spell. Thor is looking for him now,” Steve explained.

“Oh boy, what a great plan. Ten out of ten, guys. Glad we’re all bringing our A game! We all know that if Loki doesn’t want to be found, Thor isn’t going to find him. What’s the back up plan?” Tony said, giving a sarcastic eye roll.

Steve and Natasha exchanged looks, which Tony immediately caught into. “There isn’t a backup plan. Of course there isn’t, what was I thinking?”

Tony made a noise of frustration, a sentiment that Steve silently shared. “Well, I’m not sticking around here. I hate hospitals. If there isn’t anything wrong with me physically, I’m signing myself out. I also need some hamburgers. Like twenty of them.”

Tony began to get up, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed while his hand once again reached for the I.V. lead. Steve made a snap decision and grabbed both of Tony’s small arms in his hands.

“No, Tony, you’re going to let the doctor check you over and stay here until they say you can go,” He calmly stated.

“Oh, am I now? And if I don’t want to? What, you’re going to force me to stay?” Tony challenged, anger clearly evident in his voice. He tried to struggle out of Steve’s grip but Steve didn’t budge an inch. He was already stronger than Tony even as an adult; in his far weaker teenage body, Tony didn’t stand a chance against Steve’s strength. Tony realized this within seconds and settled instead on glaring daggers at Steve.  _If looks could kill…_ , he thought.

“I don’t want to force you to stay, but I will if I have to. We have no idea what we’re dealing with, so please just let the doctor’s do their job. We’ll get you burgers and any other food you want,” Steve promised.

Tony considered this, a peeved look still settled on his face, but he nodded jerkily, “Fine, have it your way, Mr. Built Like a Brick Wall. We’ll waste some time here while I could be back in the tower actually researching this.”

It took another hour for the doctors to rerun the same tests they had before, and then they again deemed Tony Stark to be healthy in every way. From his arc reactor to his blood pressure, his heart rate to his oxygen levels, everything was given the all clear. By that time, someone had managed to bring in the requested hamburgers plus several smoothies. Steve took them at the door and brought them over to Tony, trying to limit the amount of people in the room. Tony moaned in anticipation and made grabby hands at the proffered food, inhaling it out the bags. He didn’t slow down until he’d put away ten burgers.

The doctors discharged him shortly thereafter with strict instructions for him to return if he noticed any new symptoms and made him promise to attend a mandatory, once a day check up. Steve assured the medical team that he would personally escort the new teenager to his appointments. Natasha left as soon as he was given the all clear and returned quickly with a change of clothes. He swam in the shirt he threw over his head and had to close his belt on the last buckle to get his pants to stay up, though the lengths were still right.

“Well, this is good timing. Thor has returned. No Loki though, sorry Tony,” Natasha updated them, “Director Fury wants to have a meeting, so we’re going to go directly there to meet up with Thor and the rest of the team”.

“Oh boy, wonder what cyclops has to say. Probably wants to call me a reckless idiot and order me off of field duty,” Tony muttered. He bounced on his heels nervously and Steve resisted the urge to put a calming hand on his shoulder. It was hard seeing him like this, anxiety radiating from him, but strangely cute, too. Steve settled on giving him a gentle nudge, directing him out the room and down the halls.

The conference room was full by the time they arrived. Thor was talking to Bruce while Clint occupied his time making origami cranes with the papers in front of him. Fury and Maria Hill were both still standing, seemingly awaiting their arrival.

“You know Stark, I was really hoping this was a joke. It’s always you, isn’t it?” Fury asked.

“I had nothing to do with this. If you want to blame someone, blame Thor’s ‘adopted’ brother, because you know, he actually did this,” Tony snapped. He stiffly walked further into the room, knowing all eyes were on him, taking in his new, smaller frame. Anger was etched into every line of his body.

“Calm down Stark, that isn’t what I meant. I’m glad to see that age, or lack thereof, hasn’t mellowed you out,” Fury said, his tone placating.

“Man, this is so weird. You look a kid now. How old are you even?” Clint asked, staring at the younger Tony.

Tony shrugged, “The doctors said probably around seventeen. Which, you know, was a great time in my life.” The sarcasm was apparent in his voice and Steve wondered what had happened at seventeen to make Tony so bitter.

“So, big guy, tell me you have some good news for me,” Tony asked Thor, turning to face the god of thunder.

“I’m afraid I could not find Loki. He is slippery like a snake at the best of times and uses magic to elude me,” Thor said, regret evident in his voice. Tony sighed and dropped his head into his hands.

“So, what? I’m stuck like this until Loki decides to show up again? I can’t be a kid, I’m on the board of a billion dollar company and I’m an Avenger. I have responsibilities!”

“Fear not, Stark, I have consulted the sorcerers in Asgard and though they do not know how to reverse the spell, they have told me that it shall fade in time,” Thor said, putting a comforting hand on Tony that nearly dwarfed the small teenager.

“Great, ok, that’s great. How much time? Like a day? A week…?” Tony asked, looking more hopeful than he had since he woke up.

“That they could not determine, I am afraid. The effectiveness of the spell is reliant on the power of the caster and my brother's magic is quite strong,” Thor explained. Tony groaned, his head hanging in defeat.

“Great, we’re back at step one. I’m a kid until who knows when and we still have the same problems as before,” He said, despondent. Steve ached to go to him and gather his small, defeated looking form in his arms. He looked so helpless and lost and it stirred a fierce protectiveness inside Steve, an urge to physically shield him from the world.

“Now, now, Stark, don’t be so pessimistic. We know this spell is going to eventually end. So in the meantime, we need to make plans to make sure this doesn’t leak to the public. The less the people know, the better. We’ve drawn up some ideas on what the story is while you work on growing some hair on your chest again,” Fury interjected.

Maria stepped forward, ignoring Tony’s indignant squawk at the joke, and handed everyone a printed document. “Wait, did you make a meeting agenda? You made a meeting agenda about how to handle me being a kid?” Tony asked incredulously. Fury chose to ignore him, too.

“The official story is that Tony Stark was badly injured during the latest fight against Loki.”

“Because I was…” Tony muttered to himself, adding, “If my dignity counts.”

“He will be taking a leave of absence from the team,” Tony made a noise of protest, but Fury pressed on, “Iron Man will be removed from the active duty roster. Tony Stark will be taking an indefinite hiatus from both his duties as an Avenger and his responsibilities at Stark Industries, effective immediately.”

Tony started in without pause. “I can’t do that! You - you can’t do that! I can still fight, I’ll modify the suit so it fits my body. And- and, I’ll just…” Tony trailed off, thinking furiously on how he could still handle his duties at SI without showing up to board and R&D meetings.

“Tony Stark needs to disappear from the public eye while this blows over, Stark. There’s no way we can have you still active as Iron Man without compromising this secret,” Fury said, giving a very pointed look to the panicking teen.

Before Tony could interject again, another person entered the room. Tony’s head snapped up as he realized that his best friend and quickest comforter, Rhodey, had joined the meeting. Rhodey, for his part, faltered at the door, his eyes wide and his jaw slack in surprise.

“So it’s true. Pepper wasn’t just playing the world’s weirdest prank,” He said, slowly making his way to Tony, “It’s like I’m back at MIT.” Tony froze for a moment, looking like he wanted to cry, his brown eyes suspiciously bright and his face twisted with emotions. Without a word he jerked to his feet and all but threw himself into Rhodey’s arms. Rhodey caught him easily and held him closely, returned the desperate hug while whispering reassurances into Tony’s ear.

Across the room, unseen by Rhodey or Tony, Steve sat frozen in his seat, hard as a block of ice, a jagged spike of jealousy coursing through him. He had the irrational urge to stride across the room and jerk the teenager out of his friend’s arms. Tony rarely let any emotion besides snark be on display in front others and yet here he was, practically crying into Rhodey’s shoulder.

_That should be me. I should be the one Tony relies on, I should be the one comforting him_ , a surprisingly bitter voice whispered in Steve’s head. He tried to silence it, shut it off like he’d done before, and douse his anger and jealousy in a cool wash of reason, but it was like trying to put out a fire with oxygen. Everything inside of him screamed that the only arms that should hold Tony were his own and he found his hands curling into fists where they rested on his thighs, knuckles white as he forced himself to look away.

Tony finally let go of Rhodey, wiping discreetly at his eyes, “I hate this body! My mind is forty- five but this damn body acts like a weepy teenager.”

“It’s fine Tony, no one will blame you for feeling a little overwhelmed,” Rhodey said, keeping a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder and eyeing the rest of the team as if to say,  _Ain’t that right?_

“Colonel Rhodes, I’m glad you could join us. Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Fury interjected, before readdressing the room at large. “Everyone, as Stark will be out of commission for the foreseeable future, I’ve asked Colonel Rhodes here to fill his place. War Machine will officially be part of the Avengers team. Colonel Rhodes will also be moving into the tower.”

Tony jerked back from his best friend, a look of betrayal on his face. Steve felt a nasty sense of satisfaction when Tony brushed Rhodey’s hand off his shoulder and backed away from his friend, sneering.

“Oh, how naive of me, to think you’d be coming here for little ol’ me. You just heard that you’d finally get what you always wanted and decided to jump at the chance to replace me,” Tony said bitingly. Rhodey winced and raised his hands, placatingly.

“Tones you know that’s not true. I was already on my way when I heard what happened. I’m not taking your place. As soon as this spell wears off, you’re back on the team and I’ll go back to the Air Force. The Avengers need a full team, they aren’t trying to replace you.” Rhodey, to his credit, remained calm and relaxed, showcasing the experience he already had at dealing with a hormonal Tony.

Tony scoffed but everyone in the room could see how he hunched in on himself, “Yeah right, I bet they jumped at the chance to dump me.”

“Tony, you know that’s not true,” Bruce’s voice spoke up, trying to push past Tony’s self doubt. “We all like you, you’re our friend. We’re upset that Loki messed with you. You know me of all people understands what it's like to not feel like you have control over your own body. Let us help you right now. We have no idea what Loki’s spell could still do, and we have no idea how the public would react if they found out. We want to protect you, so please let us,” Bruce said.

A small silence followed his speech and then everyone else in the room murmured their agreement. Steve wanted to speak up and add more but he knew that Tony needed time to digest Bruce’s words.

Tony looked around at everyone in the room, an open, vulnerable expression on his face. It was like the spell had stripped him of his ability to build the usual masks he used to deflect the team’s care. Everyone watched in fascinated shock as, instead of doubling down on his anger, Tony shrugged one shoulder.

“Okay, fine, I don’t care,” He lied, carefully not meeting anyone’s gaze, “Rhodey’ll take my place on the team. What about the company? Pepper already has too much on her plate.”

“Miss Potts is splitting up her responsibilities and hiring more PA’s who will help her manage her duties. She’s already begun the vetting process. She’ll still come to you with anything that needs your input and pass it along to the rest of the company,” Maria said.

“Okay, so what then? I’m stuck inside the tower until some unknown date? I think that’s called jail, and I’m not even sure what crime I’ve committed,” Tony said, sardonically.

“Only you could call living in a penthouse jail, Stark,” Fury laughed and then added, “We don’t want you to be stuck inside the whole time. We’re working on a plan. It’s only been a day, we’ll come up with something. I just need you to keep a low profile and not do anything to compromise the official story.”

Tony chewed his lips and then sighed, “Fine, but I’m going to throw science at this and see if anything sticks. Fucking magic, it doesn’t even make sense! Bruce, you in?”

Bruce startled and then smiled, “Yeah, of course Tony, science bros right?” Tony held up his hand for a long distance fist bump that Bruce confusedly returned.

The meeting wrapped up quickly after that, the most immediate concerns having been handled. As soon as Fury officially ended it, Tony dragged Bruce out the room, making up for lack of strength with teenage excitement, muttering about how he’d find a way to make magic quantifiable. Steve resisted the urge to chase after him and stop him. Now that Tony seemed so much more breakable, something about that small body in a dangerous lab made Steve nervous. He sternly told himself to reign in his protective instincts instead. Just because the man looked like he was seventeen, didn’t mean he actually was. The adult Tony was still there and he wouldn’t appreciate Steve’s overprotectiveness.

But it was difficult. It seemed Tony was going to stay physically seventeen for the foreseeable future and Steve knew that he should avoid spending time with Tony until the spell lost its power. It was too… dangerous for him to be around Tony while he was so vulnerable.

“Jesus Cap, when’s the last time you took a shower?” Clint asked. He was one of the last ones out of the meeting room and Steve walked out with him, looking down at himself sheepishly.

“I still haven’t changed either. I should probably do that and read the mission debrief,” Steve signed. They followed their team into the Quinjet, eager to get home and unwind from the current insanity. Tony sat to one side, still deep in conversation with Bruce, and Steve felt an immediate desire to be near him. So he purposefully directed his feet in the opposite direction, moving to the other side and sitting down next to Rhodey.

“Colonel,” Steve said, nodding his head at the other man. “Captain,” Rhodey acknowledged. He didn’t take his eyes off of Tony. He looked a bit dazed, like he wasn’t sure he could believe his eyes.

“You know, I still can’t believe the world we live in, where Norse gods can give me a version of my best friend that I haven’t seen in twenty years. It’s so crazy. He looks exactly like he did when I met him at MIT. He was a cocky bastard then too, always trying to show up everyone, especially the teachers,” Rhodey said, chuckling as he reminisced.

“I was ROTC so of course I knew about Tony Stark, the son of the military’s biggest weapons supplier. I was handpicked to be his roommate and I remember not being happy to have to babysit a little kid. Little did I know that ‘little kid’ would become my best friend.”

Rhodey turned to look at Steve directly then before saying, “Listen, there’s some stuff you need to know and it’s important.” Steve straightened up, turning to look Rhodey in the eyes, showing he was listening. “Tony from this time in his life is a completely different person from the Tony we know now. He might still have all his memories, but it’s clear to me that at least a part of his personality is a little like the Tony I met at MIT. He’s had a lot of bad shit happen in his life since then and that made him harder, colder, and more closed off. I think he’s lost a bit of that protective shell. I’m happy to see Tony be more vulnerable, but god knows, I worry about him.”

Steve could see that worry etched deeply in the lines on Rhodey’s face

He continued, slower, softer, remembering things about protecting his best friend that he seemingly tried often not to. “Back at MIT, I tried to look out for him. Of course he would still go to parties and not sleep or eat enough but I tried to keep the people who wanted to use him away. They got their claws into him eventually, but I tried. I tried to protect Tony. And now..I think that innocence I tried to protect is back along with his baby face. I guess what I’m trying to say is… Steve, we have to look out for him. Can I trust you to help me with this?” Rhodey looked at him then, his eyes sharp.

Steve didn’t hesitate, Rhodey’s words resonating in a way that aligned with all his surging protective feelings.

“Of course,” He agreed, “I’d do anything to protect Tony.”  _Even from myself_  he added mentally. Rhodey smiled knowingly at the sincerity of Steve’s words and Steve sighed quietly. He wondered if there was anyone left who didn’t know about his feelings for Tony.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Rhodey asked, his tone light and conversational. Steve froze, alarm bells ringing in his head.

“I ah- I mean, I guess I could see that someone could say that about him. I mean, in a very uh- young way,” Steve stuttered awkwardly. He cringed inwardly at how terribly guilty he sounded. Rhodey could probably see right through him, could probably tell all the horrible, filthy, depraved thoughts Steve had about his newly deaged friend. He probably even planned on firing a rocket into Steve’s face for it and Steve would probably let him.

“He was pretty popular in college, a genius boy with that face, but I tried to make sure no one took advantage of him. He was underage through all our years at MIT, you know,” Rhodey continued, maintaining his casual tone.

Steve made a noise of agreement and avoided looking into Rhodey’s eyes, his stomach feeling queasy with shame. He couldn’t believe he was like the sleazy perverts from Tony’s youth. He didn’t deserve to be objectified and lusted after, not then and not now, especially by his own teammate.

“But that was then, when he was actually seventeen. Good thing he only looks seventeen this time around. He’s mentally still in his forties so he’s probably too old for me have a say in who he wants to date or sleep with. No matter what he looks like.” With those parting words, Rhodey slapped a hand on Steve’s back and wandered away to talk to Natasha.

Steve stared ahead, frozen to his seat by the implications of Rhodey’s words. Had he really just told Steve he didn’t care if Steve… got together with Tony, even as Tony looked now? Steve’s brain flipped the words over and over around in his head, trying to find some possible hidden meaning. But no matter how he looked at them, they stayed the same. Surely Rhodey wouldn’t tell Steve to pursue Tony now, would he? Steve must have missed the context or misheard something.

He was still ruminating over Rhodey’s confusing parting message when they arrived back at the tower. He mentally tabled his dissection of the bizarre conversation and followed the rest of the team inside. He desperately wanted a shower, a fresh change of clothes, and to wash the strangeness of the day off so he started towards the elevators to head back to his floor. Tony and Bruce walked ahead of him, probably intending to go down to one of their labs. Steve made a mental note to check on them later to make sure they actually took a break for food and for sleep.

He was still making notes in his head when Tony seemed to stumble, pitching forward towards the wall in front of his face. Steve’s body reacted without thought in an instant and with a burst of speed, he caught up to Tony, grabbing him by his hips before he could face plant the wall.

“Tony! You okay? Did you hit the wall?” Steve asked. Tony turned slightly, enough to look in Steve’s eyes, and stared at Steve with a strange look on his face. Belatedly, Steve realized how closely pressed together they were. In his haste to catch Tony before he fell, he’d practically dragged Tony against his own body by his hips. Slender, bony hips that he still held in his hands. He dropped his hands like they burned and tried to step back but Tony turned fully and placed a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Holy shit.” His voice was breathless, his eyes glinting with something Steve didn’t want to name. “Have I ever told you how hot it is when you use your super soldier reflexes?” Tony breathed, leaning forward to peer up into Steve’s eyes. An alarm bell went off in a distant part of Steve’s brain as it screamed at him to abort, to step back and disengage but the rest of him was too caught up in Tony’s beautiful eyes to move.

“I-I don’t.. Uh...You’re not, um...I’m-I’m glad you aren’t hurt”, Steve said, finally forcing his body back, breaking the the hold Tony had on his arm.

“Oh yeah, you saved me Cap, my hero,” Tony said as he winked flirtatiously. It wasn’t any different from his usual behavior, but now, in this body, his casual flirting felt deeply inappropriate and it kicked down the wall Steve had built around his darkest thoughts. He wasn’t even trying as he looked at Steve from under his thick eyelashes, bright brown eyes sparkling in challenge. His head tilted sweetly to the side and it put his lips on display, made them sinfully tempting, inviting, practically begging Steve to  _go on, take a small taste._ And for a moment, Steve forgot where he was, who he was, and found himself leaning down, hypnotized by Tony’s soft mouth. Tony’s eyes darkened in response and he licked his lips, almost daring Steve to close the distance.

But before he could an awkward cough broke the moment and Steve snapped back into himself, into the hallway, into the fact that Bruce was still here, witnessing all of this. Steve felt his face flush. He realized he was half hard in his pants and he backed away rapidly, mortified by his body’s response. His super soldier reflexes were the only thing that kept him from tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

“I, I have to go. I’m going to… go,” he stammered lamely, before he spun around and half sprinted towards the stairwell, leaving a dazed Tony and a confused Bruce in his wake.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Please see the gif that inspired all of this at the end.

A rush of hot water, just this side of unbearable, splashed down on Steve. He stood in his shower, keyed up, and let the water run over him. He’d run here after the moment in the hallway with Tony, not even stopping to properly get his uniform off; it sat on the shower floor behind him, dirty and soaked, the star staring up at him, judging him. His half hard erection had filled completely, despite his acute shame, and now he stood staring down at it, willing it to leave on it’s own. He groaned audibly, his voice echoing in the bathroom, as it stayed resolutely hard, and leaned his head against the wall, bracing an arm next to it. He knew, _he knew_ , he should be suffering under an icy spray, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn the dial. It wouldn’t be any use to try to freeze Tony out of his system. A better idea for the long run would be to let himself get off, satisfy the urge, and indulge the fantasy in an isolated space. He needed something to quench the desire so it would fall silent again, at least for a little while. So instead of turning the temperature down until he was shivering, he closed his eyes, letting himself think back to the hallway, back to Tony’s perfect little pout. In his head Bruce was gone, leaving only himself and Tony backed up against the wall. In his head...there was no one to stop him leaning in, closing the gap, crowding into Tony until their bodies were flush.

His hand fell to his cock and he gripped it firmly as he let his mind slip into his fantasy.

_He wasted no time with teasing, needing to feel Tony’s small frame against himself. In one swift move he pushed Tony into the wall, grabbing his delicate wrists, and pinning them above his head with one hand. The position put Tony’s torso on display, made it so he nearly had to stand on his tip toes, and pulled his body taut. Steve ran his unoccupied hand down across Tony’s exposed rib cage, pausing to thumb his nipples through his shirt, making him shiver and squirm. He brushed his hand, feather light, further down Tony’s body, and let his hand linger momentarily at Tony’s slender waist, memorizing the shape and feel of it. And then, without warning, he gripped Tony’s hip, hard, and yanked him forward. The angle left Tony with his ass in the air and Steve eagerly cupped the pert globes in his palm, kneading the tender flesh, and ran his finger between his cheeks, eliciting a needy moan from Tony._

_“God you’re so pretty like this. You can’t hold back at all can you? This body is so responsive.” Steve’s voice was rough as he watched Tony’s body shake with arousal. His pupils were blown wide and his hooded lids and long lashes accentuated the liquid desire in his eyes. He whined lightly as Steve’s hand continued to roughly grope his ass, licking his lips every time Steve’s fingers brushed against his hole, the thick denim of his jeans chafing against him. Steve’s eyes tracked the motion of Tony’s tongue and without conscious thought he found himself leaning down, eager to devour Tony’s mouth._

_It was messy and hungry, all spit and no finesse. Steve alternated between biting Tony’s lips and fucking his mouth with his tongue. Tony tasted as sweet as he looked, his lips soft and pliant under Steve’s, and he opened up easily, lips parting at the slightest touch of Steve’s tongue against him. He moaned loudly, and tried to kiss back, to move his tongue against Steve’s, to take instead of just receive. Steve pulled back and sucked hard on Tony’s lips in response, leaving them red and swollen before soothing them with a lick._   
_Steve had the passing thought that maybe he should be more gentle….until Tony tried to shift his hips further forward, seeking friction from Steve and whimpering. A growl rose from within Steve’s chest and he jerked his own hips forward, pushing Tony back against the wall, and ground their erections together through their clothes. The sensation of rough cloth against such sensitive skin made them both groan and Tony tilted his head back, dignity forgotten. He rutted hard against Steve, hitching his hips to try to align their cocks. His eyes were open and desperate with want, begging Steve for some kind of relief._

_“Please Steve,” he whimpered, “Please touch me, please do something.”_

_Steve stopped, his body shivering, and let out a rough exhale. He loosened his hold on Tony’s wrists, marginally, and caught Tony’s eye. “Keep your hands there, or this stops,” he instructed waiting for Tony’s nod before letting go completely. He carefully untangled Tony’s legs from his own, ignoring the protesting whimpers from the teenager, and undid Tony’s jeans, letting them slide down on their own. The shirt went next, ripping in two as Steve tore at it, aching to have every inch of that small lithe body exposed to his gaze. His eyes roved over Tony, his hands following the same path, an electric thrill running through him as he finally felt the soft skin he’d been craving since he had seen Tony in the hospital. He let his hands drift towards the waistband of Tony’s boxers but a pair of slim elegant fingers stopped him. Steve glanced back up to Tony’s face in time to catch the wicked glint in his eyes as he slid his boxers off his own thin hips and then stepped back, as if daring Steve to admire him. Steve raised his brow in response and paused to take in the sight; Tony was stretched back against the wall, his arms held over his head, and his hips jutting out, displaying his slim cock and sparse pubic hair. His thin chest was flushed and heaving as he panted, his dusky nipples standing out in contrast. His eyes were hooded, pupils edging out the brown of his irises, and dark with lust; his cheeks were a deep pink and his lips were red and wet, swollen from Steve’s kisses. His cock stood erect between his thighs, red and heavy, precome glistening at the tip._

_Tony cocked his head, eyes sparkling dangerously as he watched Steve’s perusal, and said, “Well, aren’t you going to fuck me?” Steve moved forward, covering Tony’s naked body with his own, and leaned down to whisper, “Oh sweetheart, I would love to, but we don’t have any lube.”_

_Tony smirked, his eyes flickering to his jeans and back up, “You know, I was never a boy scout…” he started, “...but I still always come prepared.” Steve’s brow furrowed as he picked up Tony’s jeans and fished through the pockets. A surge of jealousy rushed through him as he extracted a packet of lube._

_“Who was this for?” He demanded._

_“Uh -”_   
_Steve cut him off before Tony could answer, leaning down and silencing him with another kiss. “It doesn’t matter, because the only one you’re going to be thinking about from now on is me.”_

_Steve tore off his belt and undid his pants, not bothering with the rest of his uniform. He grabbed Tony by his hips and jerked him up, holding him against the wall and forcing his legs to straddle his hips. Tony still had his arms above his head and Steve knew the position must be painful but he didn’t tell him to drop his hands. He was pleased by Tony’s obedience and planned to reward him._

_He shifted, supporting Tony with one hand, so he could rip into the packet of lube with his other and coated his fingers thoroughly before bringing two of them down to circle Tony’s tight hole. He rubbed hard against the ring of muscle, pressing roughly, before inserting one finger. Tony gasped at the intrusion, and arched up, pressing his body into Steve’s. Steve let his finger rub firmly inside him, crooking it, trying to find Tony’s prostate. A quiet gasp and sharp twitch of Tony’s body let him know when he found his mark. Steve began to relentlessly finger the walnut sized gland, quickly turning Tony’s over sensitive body into a quivering mess. Steve played with Tony until he relaxed and Steve could slowly push his second finger in. He watched Tony’s face closely as he did, searching for any signs of discomfort. All he found was a dazed look of pleasure so he carefully spread his fingers, preparing Tony’s small body for his much larger cock._

_“Mmm - more” Tony was breathless, his body shaking as he tried to keep himself from riding Steve’s fingers. Steve continued teasing him, brushing his fingers against Tony’s prostate, making him jerk and twitch, until Tony was all but crying with the pleasure of it. Tony’s whole body shook with desire but Steve wouldn’t let Tony or himself satisfy the need._

_“Steve….!” Tony keened loudly as Steve deliberately pressed against the bundle of nerves inside of him, before withdrawing his fingers to the first knuckle.“You think you’re ready, baby boy?” Steve smiled wickedly at Tony, taking in the glazed look in his eyes, the way he was quaking with need, and his hands clenched tightly over his head. He withdrew his fingers from Tony’s ass and reached for the lube again._

_“Yes, Steve, please!” Tony rocked forward, trying to ride Steve’s fingers and whining when he couldn’t find them. Steve used the rest of the lube to coat his cock, pumping the solid length until every inch was covered. He took a steadying breath, his dick throbbing with need, and then slowly pressed the head of his cock against Tony’s loosened rim. He eased forward, holding Tony’s small body still, cautiously inching through the first ring of muscle. Tony started to freeze up, his whole body clenching tightly; Steve stopped immediately._

_“Steve....I don’t know if I can....it’s too big...” Tony’s voice was breathless, his eyes wild, and his lips were red, caught between his teeth. He trembled as he tried to slide his body further down Steve’s hard length._

_“Yes, you can.” Steve’s hand came up to Tony’s waist, his thumb rubbing small circles at the point where Tony’s slender hips met his thighs. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Tony’s neck, and whispered, “You’ve been so good for me, I know you can take my cock.” He let his teeth scrape at Tony’s thudding pulse point, waiting for the cue, and when Tony whimpered, he bit down, hard. Tony screamed in surprise and bright pleasure and Steve was rewarded by his shivering form relaxing and sliding another inch down his cock. They both paused, Steve’s teeth still worrying against Tony’s neck and then with a deep breath and one brutal shove, Steve buried his cock into Tony’s tight heat._

_He paused again, his breathing unsteady, and let Tony adjust to the sensation of being completely filled. He let go of Tony’s neck and turned his head, capturing Tony’s mouth in a gentle kiss. Tony kissed back, eager little noises of pleasure escaping from him. Finally, he relaxed and Steve started to move, slowly at first, dragging his cock across Tony’s prostate. He picked up the pace as Tony’s hips canted forward, seeking more._

_“You don’t have to be gentle with me, Steve.” Tony caught his eyes, held him in as gaze, as he whispered savagely, “Fuck me hard, soldier”_

_Steve hips stuttered for a moment, eyes wide, before he snapped them forward harder into Tony. Tony’s head rolled back and his jaw went slack with pleasure, his cock drooling precum. Steve repeated the motion, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remained inside and then slamming forward. Tony’s entire body jolted with the impact and his hands finally fell down, coming to rest on Steve’s shoulders, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave bruises. Steve thrust into him again and then set a punishing pace, entranced as he watched Tony each time he bottomed out. Tony’s own cock, stuck between their bodies, brushed against Steve’s uniform as they moved, smearing precum against the dirty fabric. Steve ignored it, and instead hooked Tony’s thighs in his hands and pried them further apart, nearly pulling Tony in half as he chased his own pleasure._

_Tony let out a continuous string of moans and incoherent sentences, tossing his head and biting his kiss swollen lips. “Please, please, please…” He begged, “More, please touch me. Fuck me - oh god - Steve you feel so good.” Spurred on by Tony’s begging, Steve spread his legs, giving himself more room for leverage. He was barely holding back his strength and a distant part of his mind worried about Tony’s fragile body. But it was clear that Tony was loving every second of being used; his cock was twitching, as if he could almost come without a single touch. His hands were knotted into the fabric of Steve’s uniform, hanging on for dear life as Steve used him._

_“Baby boy, can you come for me?” Steve asked, his breath ragged against Tony’s ear. Tony shook his head and whimpered “I can’t, Steve. Please touch me, please.” Steve ignored him and instead began to whisper a litany of filthy words into his ears, never letting his pace falter._

_“I think you can, sweetheart. This is enough for you, all you need is my cock. Don’t lie to me, you can come from just this… just the feeling of me fucking you.”_

_Tony’s frantic eyes met Steve’s, wet with tears of desperation and frustration. He’d bitten his lips almost bloody and his body shook with over stimulation. He rocked his hips forward, seeking touch, and finding only Steve’s stiff uniform. Steve thrust harshly against Tony’s prostate, letting his hips grind against Tony’s. Tony’s body grew taut as he hung on the precipice of his orgasm, needing something, anything to drive him over._

_“Come.” It was a command, not a question, and Tony obeyed. He came with a shout, his cock jerking and spurting, painting streaks of white across Steve’s dirty uniform. His hole spasmed around Steve’s cock and with a low grunt Steve found himself following Tony over the edge. He gripped Tony’s hips hard enough to bruise and thrust once, twice, three times before burying his cock as deeply as he could and coming inside Tony._

Steve roughly stroked his cock, his fantasy burning brightly in his mind. He gripped tighter, right on the edge, and with a groan that sounded suspiciously like “Tony” his orgasm overtook him.

He slowly opened his eyes after a moment, looking down as he watched his come, and his dignity, wash down the drain. Hot shame filled him as he realized what he had done, using the memory of Tony and his enticing body to relieve his own sexual frustration. He snorted with disgust, even as his body still trembled with the aftereffects of his orgasm, and finally turned the dial of his shower to freezing.

_"Never again.”_ , he assured himself.

~*~

“Okay, make sure that they get everything on that list, otherwise I might go out and buy the missing items myself.” There was a brief silence while Tony listened to the person on the other end, followed by a quick smirk. “Why Ms. Hill, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Tony removed the phone from his ear, looking at Bruce, “She hung up on me! Can you believe that?”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, “I can’t imagine why,” He said with a sigh. He turned his attention back to the results on the screen before him, “This test was a bust too. There are no ‘magical signatures’ to trace, Tony, and nothing to measure. We’ve just confirmed the same things as the doctors last week. You’re a healthy teenager, albeit with a heart condition and a well developed brain. I don’t think we’re going to able to find anything else using science. I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony didn’t respond. He was still looking at his phone, clearly not paying attention to Bruce, a recurring theme since the second day of their testing. The depression that had first plagued Tony when he’d awoken in his transformed body had shifted and melted away overnight. A strange glee that both unsettled and relieved the rest of the team had taken its place. It was nice, seeing Tony more carefree, less on guard all the time. The problem was that the new attitude came with a dangerous hobby, one that everyone on the team was aware of and admittedly amused by. Everyone, that was, except Steve.

Poor Steve, usually so reserved and in control, had folded like a bad hand of cards. All because Tony had batted his youthful doe eyes at him. He had nearly kissed him in front of a fellow teammate, after years of bashfully ignoring Tony’s outrageous flirting. Tony had, of course, immediately noticed the effect his new, younger body had on Steve.

At first, he had silently tucked away the knowledge that Steve was interested in his teen body, to be used at a later time, and focused wholeheartedly on finding a remedy for his predicament. His first day as a teen had been spent holed up in his lab with Bruce. He had only eaten when Bruce brought in food and only slept when Bruce asked J.A.R.V.I.S to shut down the systems. They spent three days like that, running every possible test, leaving no stone unturned and working for hours on end. But when experiment after experiment failed and it became evident that there was not going to be a scientific solution to his problem, Tony left without a word and disappeared into his penthouse. He didn’t return to the lab for the entire day and when he did come back, he was less focused and clearly distracted by other endeavours.

Today had been the least productive day by far and Tony was clearly planning something that wasn’t related to Bruce and their tests. Whatever errand he had S.H.I.E.L.D running was evidently more important to him, demonstrated by the yawn he let out before finally answering Bruce.

“Hey, Bruce, its fine, it's not a big deal.” Bruce’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, his entire face showing confusion and skepticism. “You know, it’s a waste of my time and yours to try to find a cure for this. You heard Thor, it’ll fizzle out by itself. Plus it’s not like its been hurting me. Aside from the damn doctors visits,” Tony put a hand on Bruce’s arm and tugged gently. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Bruce studied him for moment, his eyes tired and knowing. “Tony…..are you sure there isn’t another reason you’re giving up?”

Tony didn’t deign to respond. Instead, he tugged on Bruce’s arm again, pulling him out of the lab and down the hall to the elevator. His hand shifted down to the small of Bruce’s back as they walked and he kept it there for the duration of the elevator ride, while Bruce shifted around uncomfortably. “Tony, why do you have your hand on my back?” Bruce asked as they entered the kitchen.

Tony didn’t respond but his eyes lit up with mischief as he caught sight of Steve who had clearly just come from the gym. His hair was matted with sweat and he had on one of his usual tight workout shirts and sweatpants. Tony didn’t try to hide the appreciative onceover he gave Steve but he refrained from saying anything too flirtatious.

Tony lifted his hand from Bruce’s back and draped his arm casually around his shoulder, manoeuvring them around until they were standing in front of Steve. Tony cleared his throat exaggeratedly and said, “Oh, Steve, I didn’t see you there! I was just getting lunch with my favourite buddy here,” he patted Bruce’s shoulder, “What are you making?”

Bruce groaned as he caught onto Tony’s plan, but he was helpless to stop it. Steve didn’t seem to notice Bruce’s discomfort, his eyes zeroed in on where Tony and Bruce were touching. His previously placid face grew dark and his eyebrows lowered as a frown began to form on his lips. Tony’s own face lit up with a grin as he watched Steve’s reaction and he leaned against Bruce more heavily.

“Tony. Bruce.” Steve’s voice was clipped, “Didn’t expect to see you out of the lab already.” His eyes were still fixed on Tony’s arm, a potent glare on his face. Bruce looked even more uncomfortable, his gaze darting around the room searching for an opportunity to escape.

“Oh, yeah, actually, Bruce and I decided to stop trying to find a cure. It’s pointless, since the spell will run out of juice on its own. I’ve already wasted valuable lab time and I don’t intend to waste anymore of it,” Tony said casually. Steve made a small choking sound and dropped the knife he had been using to spread peanut butter on his sandwich. “What? You’ve… given up? Why? I mean, that doesn’t seem like you, Tony.” He looked shocked and vaguely panicked, as if his world had shifted slightly off its axis.

“Well, what’s the point? It’s not hurting me, being young again. In fact, I’ve learned to kind of like it. I have more energy, I look good, and I get a mini vacation. Win-win really.” Tony deliberately tilted his head and looked up at Bruce, a pout on his lips, “You support my decision don’t you, Brucie? Even if Cap doesn’t?”

Bruce, who had been trying to subtly yank himself away from Tony groaned again, muttering, “I am not going to be a part of this. Jesus Christ, Tony, don’t drag me into this mess.” Steve didn’t seem to hear Bruce as he came around the counter, sandwich abandoned. He planted himself in front of them with an angry look on his face as he said, “I think it should be a team decision if you’re going to give up. This affects us all, Tony, not just you.”

“All of us? This affects all of us? The team has Rhodey and Pepper is running Stark Industries. So, please enlighten me, how does this affect all of us?” There was a telling glint in his eyes as he attempted to goad Steve into admitting that his issues were personal and not related to the team. Bruce finally finished extracting himself from under Tony’s arm and exited, leaving Steve and Tony to their disagreement. Neither of them noticed his departure, too busy winding themselves up for the inevitable argument.

”What kind of game are you playing, Tony?”

Tony started a retort before visibly cutting back his instinctive response. He smiled lavisciously saying, “No game, Cap, just learning to pick my battles.” He winked and sauntered off, an obvious sway to his hips as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Steve gobsmacked. Steve looked around, at a loss, glancing at his half assembled sandwich, then let out a frustrated sigh and headed back to the gym.

~*~

The following day Tony walked into the common room wearing clothes that fit his young body like a second skin; a pair of skinny jeans, painted onto him in a way that accentuated the flatness of his sharp hips and the curve of his ass, and a small bright blue shirt. It was hardly appropriate attire for a relaxed team dinner and he strutted into the room like he was walking into a nightclub.

Steve barely missed walking into the table, eyes never leaving Tony as he took his seat. Everyone watched Tony as he prowled to Steve, taking his usual seat next to him. Steve sat stiff as a board as Tony settled in, hardly daring to move or breathe. When Thor arrived, Tony scooted closer, ostensibly to make room, and pressed their thighs together. He let his hands ‘slip’ against Steve’s legs throughout the meal, letting them linger higher and higher up on Steve’s thigh. Steve barely ate his meal before excusing himself, power walking out of the room. Tony let him escape, a satisfied smile on his face and a calculating look in his eyes.

After that dinner, Tony made a habit of showing up in communal spaces wearing tighter and tighter clothing, making sure to seek out Steve. He attended breakfast Sunday morning wearing jogging shorts and a tight black t-shirt, exaggeratedly yawning so that a sliver of his thin stomach showed, causing Steve to drop a whole carton of eggs. Brunch that day was made by an exasperated Natasha, who muttered Russian curses under her breath the whole time. On Tuesday he slipped out of the gym locker room wearing just a towel, claiming he had forgotten a change of clothes. Steve knocked his punching bag off it’s hook as Tony walked by, barely missing Clint, who stood across the room. Steve ignored Clint’s superied yelp and stalked out of the room, leaving the mess for someone else to clean up.

On Wednesday’s team movie night, he came up from the workshop in a shirt full of holes, one tantalizing nipple peeking through. He claimed the seat next to Steve and draped his legs over him. Steve sat still as a statue through the whole movie, unable to fully draw breath as Tony leaned close to him, whispering things in his ear, making sure his lips touched Steve’s skin with every word. When the movie ended Steve unceremoniously dumped Tony to the floor and ran back to his room; he avoided Tony and the team for two full days.

After that, Tony deemed his ‘experiments’ a success. Tony knew without a doubt that he had Steve Roger’s number. He’d had an inkling that Steve harboured feelings for him, ones that he wholeheartedly returned, but Steve had always been so careful and cautious. He never gave anything away and usually coolly played off Tony’s flirting. This was the first time Tony had ever seen Steve so unsettled and he knew it was thanks to the spell.

There was only one conclusion to Tony’s hypothesis: Steve Rogers had a thing for Tony’s teenage body. It was a new opportunity for Tony and he wasn’t about to let it slip through his fingers. He’d given up on finding a cure for the spell and instead devoted his time to planning Project Get That Ass (“Sir, are you certain we shouldn’t call it ‘Operation: Jailbait’?” “Very funny, J.A.R.V.I.S”). The first step had been the clothes and the touching, a test to see how far he could push Steve’s boundaries. He was disappointed but not surprised when Steve started avoiding him but Tony was never one to give up. Like all his best plans, he had a phase two that he was sure Steve would not be able to ignore.

~*~

The following day he waited deliberately until Steve and Thor were both in the communal living room, watching a historical documentary in companionable silence, to made his next move. He sauntered in, wearing what could be politely called shorts and tight tank top that rode up on his flat stomach. He coughed delicately, ensuring he grabbed the attention of both men. Steve turned from his spot on the couch and promptly choked on his own spit, his eyes growing as large as dinner plates. Thor hardly batted an eyelash, humming appreciatively. His eyes roved greedily over Tony’s exposed skin, not bothering to hide his attraction.

“Hey, Thor!” Tony wiggled his fingers in greeting and shook his hips as he made his way towards the couch, barely glancing at Steve. “Whatcha watchin?” He made his way around to the front of the couch and paused, hands on his hips, angling himself so Thor had an unhindered view of his barely covered ass.

“A history documentary, young Stark, “ Thor said, his voice warm and soft. Tony glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Thor’s eyes were hooded, amusement and attraction shining in them. “Care to join us?” He held out a hand towards Tony, who took it, letting Thor draw him in. Who was Tony to deny the god of thunder when he so clearly wanted Tony in his lap? Steve growled in annoyance and rolled his eyes as Tony wiggled around and made himself comfortable on Thor’s lap. He ended up with his back against the arm rest, his bare feet tickling Steve’s thigh, and Thor’s arms wrapped around him. Steve’s hands clenched tightly where they sat on his thighs, his knuckles white. His jaw was clenched tensely as he stared intently at the T.V. He was obviously resisting the urge to look at Tony and Thor but his eyes flickered discreetly in their direction.

Tony, seemingly relaxed, let his hands drift across Thor’s arms. His fingers lingered on the muscles he found there, squeezing absentmindedly. They sat that way for nearly a quarter of an hour, tension growing as Tony and Thor continued their silent flirtations. When Thor’s hand dropped down slightly to graze against Tony’s hips, he shifted so the hand grazed the top of his ass instead. Steve had long since given up pretending to watch the show. He openly started at them and Tony caught his eyes, holding his gaze as he allowed Thor to run his hand across the top of his ass.

Steve’s eyes grew cold as ice, fury simmering in them, and Tony straightened a little, finally focusing fully on Steve. A muscle ticked in Steve’s jaw and his hands were balled into tight fists. He looked like he was ready to start a war with the Prince of Asgard. His lips hardly moved when he finally growled out, “Tony, a word,” before moving jerkily towards the hallway, his entire body drawn tight as a bowstring as he walked away.

Tony extracted himself from Thor’s hold with a false promise to come back later and cautiously followed Steve into the hallway. Before he could even fully exit the doorway a strong hand grabbed his upper arm and whirled him around, slamming him into the wall. A second hand struck down hard next to his head, making him jump. He stared up at Steve, a hint of fear in his eyes and swallowed audibly as his throat suddenly went dry.

“Everything alri- “

“What the fuck are you doing, Tony.” Steve didn’t make it a question, his tone dripping with cold anger. He was on the edge of precipice, a spark ignited and already fanning into jealous flames. Tony’s worked to control his face, fighting both his internal pleasure at the knowledge that his plans had worked and a small amount nervous fear.

Tony tried to settle his features into an innocent pout, lowering his head marginally as if in submission. He looked up through his lashes, a move he’d been favouring more and more recently, since Steve almost always responded favorably to it. But Steve’s expression didn’t change and his body didn’t relax. “I was just having some fun…” Tony trailed off and reached a hand up to soothe Steve with a touch. Steve didn’t let him make contact. He grabbed Tony’s wrists, gripping tight enough to send pinpricks of pain up Tony’s arms, and pinned them to his sides, the look on his face blooming into full fury.

Steve crowded into Tony’s space, forcing Tony to look up at his towering figure. For a breathless moment, neither of them moved and then, without warning, Steve kissed Tony. His mouth was desperate, hungry, as though he was a starving and Tony was the only thing that could sate his appetite. It was messy, Steve’s tongue slipping past Tony’s lips to open him up with more enthusiasm than skill. Tony moaned, letting his mouth fall open, and eagerly met Steve’s forceful tongue with his own. Steve controlled the kiss, sucking on Tony’s tongue, and forced Tony to keep pace with him. Tony quickly found himself unable to do anything but gasp into the kiss, letting Steve take control, his body going limp as his breath was stolen from him. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation, feeling his mouth grow wet and sloppy under Steve’s.

And then, as quickly as it started started, it ended and Tony found himself kissing empty air. He opened his eyes in confusion, his hands reaching for Steve’s body. Steve stood a full three feet away from him, his mouth shiny with spit and eyes wild.

“Steve?”

“I can’t, Tony,” Steve whispered, pain and misery clear in his voice. Tony stood stock still, spine ramrod straight as he processed the words. A smirk split his face as he tried to hide his frustration. “Guess I misread this situation, then.” He chuckled but the sound was hollow and fell flat.

“You’re seventeen, Tony! What kind of man would I be if I let myself-”

“I’m forty-five, Steve! Only my body is seventeen and, if we’re being technical, it’ll be eighteen in three weeks on my birthday!”

Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry, Tony.” He turned around and walked away before Tony could argue, his shoulders hunched in misery and embarrassment. Tony watched him leave, disbelief and frustration clear on his face.

“Coward!” He yelled bitterly but Steve didn’t turn. He kept walking, finally rounding the corner, and leaving Tony standing alone in the hallway.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The first few days in the Tower following the hallway confrontation were tense. Steve was nowhere to be found and Tony only knew he was even still in the Tower because he’d asked J.A.R.V.I.S for an update.

“He seems to be...avoiding you, Sir.” was the terse reply.

Tony sighed and nodded to himself in his empty lab. “Yeah, I thought as much.”

So Tony, knowing that Steve was at least physically still alright, left him to his self-imposed exile without complaint, at least for a few days. He was still incredibly angry with Steve, and frustrated beyond belief at his misguided morals, but he knew that if he confronted Steve now, it would only drive him further away. So Tony called on his shallow well of limited patience and let Steve avoid him. He was rewarded after three days when Steve finally started making appearances around the tower, but he would still swiftly duck out of rooms if Tony entered, or sharply change directions if Tony was already there. Still, Tony let him. It grated on his nerves, made him grind his teeth in frustration, but he let him. He let Steve eat his meals in his room in peace and let him cancel on their sparring sessions with last minute excuses. He even let Steve spend time with the other Avengers uninterrupted.

But by day four, Tony had had enough. Steve had begun avoiding everyone and there was a palpable tension amongst the team, and, with the exception of Rhodey, people had taken to avoiding Tony as well. No one had said it was Tony’s fault, but he felt like it was, and he took it as his personal responsibility to try to fix things with Steve. He was going stir crazy, locked inside the tower, and he coveted the interactions he had with the other Avengers. The tense awkward situation was killing his sparse chances to still interact with other living beings and he couldn’t stand it another minute. So, with his mind made up to force Steve into a serious conversation, he went on the hunt.

“Nat, hey, do you know where Steve is?” He found Natasha in the living room, where she sat with a book propped open on her lap.  She levelled a sceptical and disapproving look at him, clearly doubting that Tony had good intentions.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m trying to fix things!”

“Forgive me for not believing you after your antics last week. I’m with Bruce on this one, I don’t want any part of your drama. Find him yourself.” With that, she went back to her book, silently and yet soundly dismissing Tony.

With a frustrated groan, Tony threw his hands up in the air and walked away, a bit stung that his team thought so little of him. Okay, so maybe he _had_ gone a little overboard with the clothes, and maybe flirting with Thor had been a _little_ childish, but it wasn’t like Steve was blameless. He was infantilizing Tony, treating him like he was actually a teenager, so Tony had responded in a childish manner, vindictively meeting Steve’s expectations of him. It wasn’t Tony’s fault that Steve evidently had a thing for this young body and he wasn’t above some petty revenge.

He paused in the hallway, leaning his head back against the wall, and sighed before asking out loud, “J, where is the good captain?”

“Captain Rogers is in his quarters, Sir. Shall I tell him you are on your way?”

“Nah, he’d just run. Just let me know if he leaves.” With that, Tony made his way to the elevators, adrenaline spiking the closer he got. He knocked on Steve’s door, heart thumping, half expecting to be ejected from the spot, but after a short pause, the door opened.

“Tony, what are you doing here?” Steve’s voice was unfriendly, hostile, and made Tony feel three inches tall. Steve was in sweat pants and a thin sweater with no t-shirt underneath, his eyes cold as steel as they gazed slightly over Tony’s head. Tony focused on his own anger and told himself to ignore the way the way Steve’s chest peeked through the gap where his zipper ended.

He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, squinting up at Steve. “Well, I thought I needed to make sure you hadn’t tripped into the freezer and turned back into a capcicle.” He tried for a casually joking tone, but it came out more tentative than he intended. “I’ve given you plenty of space, even my therapist is proud, but it’s time we had a conversation, big guy”. Tony attempted to give Steve’s bicep a fond punch, but Steve flinched away. Tony’s eyes narrowed as he tried to pretend it didn’t bother him and he regarded Steve with a pout.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You don’t want me to touch you, when it was never a problem before. I mean, I totally respect your boundaries, but it seems like a big change from a few weeks ago.”

Steve’s eyes finally found Tony’s. “You call pushing me until I slammed you into a wall ‘respecting my boundaries’?” His tone was deceptively light as he called Tony out for his behaviour.

Tony ignored the shame that tried to twist its way into his gut and made an irritated noise before saying, “Fine, I pushed a bit far, I agree. I apologize. But contrary to your current beliefs, we are both adults and we should have a conversation about this.”

Steve blinked at him and waited.

“Listen, I am still the same Tony. I still have all my memories and all of my life experiences. My body may be changed, but I still feel forty-five. So, please, stop treating me like a child. It’s degrading and humiliating”.

Steve cast his eyes down, having the decency to look a bit ashamed. “I know you’re still you, Tony, I do, and I respect that. But I need you to respect that I am not okay being physical with you right now. You have to understand how uncomfortable it is for me to be so attracted to you right now.” His pale Irish skin didn’t let him hide the blush that rose to his cheeks and turned his face a soft pink.

Tony bit his lip and said, “I get it. I do, but do you blame me for wanting to jump on this chance? I have spent years practically throwing myself at you and you’ve ignored it. Now, I suddenly look a little younger and you can’t keep your hands off me? I know I’ll turn back to boring old me soon and….I’m afraid you won’t-” He cut himself off, looking away. Steve’s eyes grew soft and his hands reached out, but it was Tony’s turn to flinch away and back up a step.

“God damn it, I hate this body, so weak!” He muttered. He glared up at Steve, lifting his chin into a familiar stubborn angle. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. Will you apologize for infantilizing me?” He asked.

Steve hesitated….and then continued to hesitate, his mouth opening and closing softly as he tried to speak. The silence dragged on, infuriating Tony. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he finally filled the space around them with a gruff, “Really? You can’t even apologize for that?”

“Tony, I was trying to protect you!” Steve burst out. His face immediately grew pale and he drew back as he realised his mistake. He had managed to say the exact wrong thing. Tony gaped, feeling like the small amount of progress they’d made had been completely nullified. He huffed out a breath in angry disbelief and shook his head, frustration boiling through his veins, and then turned on his heel and marched out of Steve’s room, leaving him in his doorway, stammering an apology.

He didn’t run into anyone else as he stormed back to his own room and was for once grateful. He wasn’t interested in talking anymore; he just wanted to get the hell out of the tower, to escape the bullshit his youthful visage had brought for five minutes.

He changed outfits with brusque, stiff movements, throwing on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He walked out the door but paused when he realised that it might not be a bad idea to hide his face a little better. He grabbed a pair of large sunglasses and a baseball cap he’d gotten while attending a Dodgers game with Steve and resumed his escape. He slipped through the tower quietly, miraculously managing to make it to the garage without seeing a soul. He was reminded, with a distant pang, that Steve was not the only one on the team who was now avoiding him. He tried to tell himself he didn’t care, but he felt his heart clench painfully at the thought that everyone was annoyed with him. It felt like a regression to their first days as a team and again he cursed Loki for his predicament.

He briefly considered taking a car, longing for the feel of a breeze and the purr of an engine beneath him, but he realised that, at best, driving a flashy car around in Manhattan would out him as a rich kid. At worst, it could attract attention of the police and he didn’t exactly have a license that fit him anymore. He considered his options before taking out his Stark phone and searching for the location of the nearest Starbucks. Steve had taken to hiding his coffee in the last few weeks (“Caffeine isn’t good for minors!”) and the rest of the team had gleefully helped him, so Tony took a certain satisfaction in indulging a bad habit Steve disapproved of.

The Starbucks he chose was only half a mile away, so he adopted a leisurely pace and strolled out of the garage and onto the street, marvelling at the fact that no one seemed to recognize him. Even when he had been young, he’d rarely had the chance to enjoy New York City from the streets, instead of the tinted windows of his cars, and he certainly had never been able to leave the house without at least one person knowing him. He revelled in the opportunity to blatantly ogle the stone and metal buildings around him like a tourist. The air was still slightly chilly, but spring birds were already out and singing, and a slight breeze ruffled the hair peeking around his cap as he walked. He took his time, enjoying the sights and the sounds of the city, letting them lift him into a marginally better mood.

He made it to the Starbucks a mere fifteen minutes later and got in line, bouncing on his heels as he perused the menu. He mouthed some of the possible drink choices to himself, wholly ignoring everyone else in the store, and ultimately decided on an Americano with five shots of espresso. That would come close to the coffee he made himself back at the Tower and would give Steve a small heart attack if he knew about it.

He was almost to the register when a loud ‘ahem’ sounded from behind him. He turned around, his heart sinking into his stomach, certain he had been found out. But the man behind him made no mention of his name, and he definitely wasn’t a fellow Avenger come to take Tony home. He was, however, tall; tall enough that Tony had to take a step back to see his face clearly. He seemed attractive, in a generic college frat boy sort of way; a five o’clock shadow grew over a chiselled chin and dark brown hair swooped into his green eyes. He looked like one of the dozens of hook-ups that Tony had enjoyed in his youth, but Tony now had a different standard by which he judged beauty, and this guy didn’t hold a candle to Steven Grant Rogers. Tony was unimpressed.

“Can I help you?” Tony asked, raising one eyebrow past his shades. His tone wasn’t belligerent but still made it clear that he was annoyed and uninterested. The frat boy didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry, sweet cheeks, but I couldn’t help but notice you got an ass I could bounce a quarter off of and I wanted to see if I could you interest you in something other than coffee?” He leered, obviously proud of his pick-up line. Tony rolled his eyes behind the safety of his glasses, mildly amused by the terrible attempt at flirting.

He pursed his lips, feigning deep thought before saying, “Hmmm, guaranteed pleasure and stimulation or five minutes faking an orgasm? What a difficult choice. Listen, kid, you’re punching above your weight class, so how about you step back, and we’ll agree to save your dignity by pretending this never happened?”

The frat boy’s face flushed with anger and the sting of rejection, but it didn’t seem like he was going to take Tony’s obvious no for an answer. He reached his hand out, latching onto Tony’s upper arm with a tight grip, a cruel glint in his eyes. Tony’s own eyes widened behind his shades as he realised his big mouth had once again landed him in a world of trouble, only this time without the aid of his armour or the musculature of his older body. Nevertheless, he widened his stance and braced himself, his thoughts flashing back to the self-defence lessons that Natasha insisted on teaching him. He was grateful he had at least that training this time around and would hopefully not be getting his ass handed to him as soundly as he often had at MIT.

But before he could fully prepare himself or even pull himself out of the man’s grip, the door of the shop flew open and Steve Rogers, clothes dishevelled and hair a mess, entered. The shop fell silent as Steve’s keen eyes darted around the small space before resting on Tony. He quickly assessed the situation, taking in Tony’s defensive position and the man’s hand on him, and stalked over, tapping the man on his shoulder.

His voice rumbled deeply with agitation as he asked, “Mind if I step in?”

Time slowed to crawl, and Tony watched in abject fascination and mild horror, as Steve whirled the man around and slammed his fist into his face. There was a sickening crunch as Steve’s hand connected with the man’s nose and his head snapped back. Tony knew Steve had must have pulled his punch, but it wasn’t by much. The man wasn’t dead, but his nose was undoubtedly broken. His eyes looked vaguely crossed as he narrowed them at Steve, and in a move of pure stupidity, he wound back his own fist and attempted to land a punch. Steve deftly blocked him as he swung and then leaned in, as though he wanted to grapple the guy.

“Ba’k off, buddy, me ab ‘im ‘ave bidess!” Blood streamed from his nose as the man tried to string together a coherent sentence. He stepped back, trying to put distance between himself and Steve, and in doing so accidentally knocked into Tony, pushing him into a nearby table. Tony hit it with his hip and went off balance, landing on his ass with a soft “Oof!”.

His eyes shot back up when he heard a low, dangerous growl; something had apparently snapped in Steve when Tony went down. The knowledge should have been flattering, but all Tony felt was vague fear for his would-be assailant's life. Steve’s eyes were ice cold with barely contained wrath and his brows were furrowed; his mouth was flattened into a thin line and rage was evident in every crease on his face. While Tony watched, his spine straightened, and he drew himself up to his full height. And then, seemingly without a single thought as to who he was or where he was, Steve grabbed the bleeding man by his neck, dragged him to the nearest table while he struggled, and slammed his head into it, a loud crack echoing as it broke. Steve let go and the man’s body slid down to lay unconscious at Tony’s feet. Tony, mouth gaping open, glanced from it to where Steve stood above them, panting, his hooded eyes focused intently on Tony.

The coffee shop remained silent as the onlookers processed the fight they had just witnessed until a small voice said, “Is that Captain America?” Within seconds the entire cafe had pulled out their phones and clamoured towards Steve, shouting questions, asking for photos, and shoving Tony out of the way. He had to scuttle backwards on his hands to avoid being stepped on and in no time, he was relegated to the outskirts of the crowd while Steve stood in the middle, looking less enraged and more overwhelmed. Tony looked at him and considered stepping in to help, before thinking better of it. He beat a hasty retreat instead and no one noticed as he slipped out the doors and back onto the street. He glanced back and mouthed a silent “sorry” to Steve, who was now fending off dozens of people with phones. Steve’s eyes pleaded for help, but Tony ignored them, and he hightailed it back in the direction of the Tower.

~*~

By the time Tony returned to the Tower, his phone was blowing up with notifications. He had missed calls and texts from Pepper, Rhodey, and Maria Hill. He groaned as he realised, he wouldn’t be able to escape a lecture from at least one person. He turned off his phone without checking any of the message contents and snuck back into the Tower via the garage. He selected the penthouse floor in the elevator, eager to avoid anyone and their potential dress downs.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that Rhodey would know he would try to avoid confrontation and would therefore be waiting for him in his kitchen. For a second, Tony considered pressing a new floor in the elevator but the frown Rhodey was directing at him stayed his hand. So instead, he cautiously entered onto the floor, ambling towards the chairs by the kitchen island and taking a seat.

“Honeybear! It’s good to see you! How are you liking the team?” Tony asked, cheerfully. He selected an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the island and casually bit into it, hoping his carefree disposition would save him from Rhodey’s ire. He had no such luck.

“Care to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Rhodey asked, as he slammed his Stark phone onto the granite countertop. Tony peered at the screen, trying to make sense of the upside-down words from his vantage point. Rhodey tapped the screen angrily until a twitter feed hung between them. There were several shots of Tony, thankfully fully covered in his baseball cap and sunglasses, accompanied by nearly endless tweets about Steve saving a faceless “twink”.

Tony leaned back in his chair, carelessly discarding his baseball cap and sunglasses. “Looks to me like Cap got some good PR. Everyone always thinks he’s old fashioned, having him save a poor helpless twink will do wonders for his modern fan base”.

Rhodey’s expression didn’t change and Tony sighed. “I wasn’t expecting this lecture from you Rhodes,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, “I mean...you knew me when I actually was this age.”

“Yeah, I did, Tones, and I know you thought you were invincible then, too. But this time around it’s a lot more dangerous. You’re lucky you weren’t spotted, and that Steve showed up when he did. Sure, it’s been a few dozen years since the media has seen you as a teenager, but people aren’t stupid. I know you think they are, but they aren’t, and all it takes is one clever person comparing a few photos to blow your cover”, Rhodey paused and came around the countertop to grip one of Tony’s shoulders. “I just want you to be safe man, and I don’t think you’ve had your best interests in mind recently.”

Tony bit back the instinct to start a fight. He had always valued Rhodey’s words and opinions, as well as his frank honesty. It was one of the things he loved so much about Rhodey, so he didn’t know why he found it so hard to accept the objective advice his old friend was giving him. Instead of responding, he bit into his apple again, buying himself some time.

“Look, I know this whole situation sucks. I get it, you hate being trapped inside, but everyone on the team-” he paused, eyes glancing to the left as he thought through his words. “Everyone on your team would love to help you. You want to go out and ditch some S.H.I.E.L.D handlers? Blow off steam? They’ll help you. But you have to trust them,” Rhodey said, letting his hand drop from Tony’s shoulder.

Tony pretended to chew the apple, but it felt like lead in his mouth. He knew Rhodey’s words were the truth, but he found it hard to contemplate the idea that the rest of the Avengers really cared for him. He still struggled to believe that Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy valued him beyond the perks his friendship provided, so the idea that the Avengers tolerated him for more than the home he had given them and the weapons he built seemed absurd.

“Well, I don’t know about that Rhodey, but I appreciate your concern,” Tony said, dropping his half-eaten apple onto the countertop. “It was a dumb idea, I’ll admit that, but it looks like my disguise was enough to fool the masses.”

With that, he got up and walked towards his bedroom, leaving Rhodey in the kitchen. He heard his friend let out an exasperated breath, but Tony didn’t turn around. He let his mind wander instead, ruminating on Rhodey’s words as he remembered the incident.

Steve had protected him from a dangerous situation, but their relationship still felt incredibly brittle. In fact, Tony was willing to bet that the whole fiasco had further damaged their already fragile friendship. He cursed his tiny body for being so vulnerable, certain that he would have had his assailant knocked out before Steve had intervened if he had been in his real body. Instead, he’d cowered like a fool and risked both his and Steve’s reputation.

He snorted derisively at his own thoughts as he wandered into his bathroom and began stripping off his clothes, ready for a hot shower. He would still have to deal with Pepper and Maria, but first he needed a little stress relief. And there was at least one sure fire way he could think of to relax himself and wind down.

“J, turn the shower on, you know what temperature I like,” Tony said, grabbing several towels and a soft silk robe and throwing them on the ground. A day like this required a special brand of self care that he usually didn’t have time for and he looked forward to taking care of some business while he washed away his frustrations.

He stepped into the shower and hissed as the hot water pounded down back, drenching his curls and running down his body. He ignored his growing erection for the moment, taking time to massage shampoo and conditioner into his hair and thoroughly wash his body. Years of time spent covered in grease and oil had taught him the value of a good cleansing shower and he lost himself in the familiar routine.

Without thinking, he lazily gripped his hard cock, letting his eyes close as water streamed down his lashes. His hands were still slick with conditioner, so he gave a slow, smooth pump, shuddering as his body grew hotter under the scalding spray. He let his mind drift back to the coffee shop, back to Steve panting with pent up rage, in obvious need of an outlet. God, how Tony wanted to be that outlet.

_Steve was still heaving as the asshole who had tried to assault Tony collapsed to the ground, his eyes hot and wild. Tony stared at him, wide eyed, his pupils blown, and bottom lip caught in his teeth. He needed to thank to Steve, to let him know exactly how much he appreciated his heroics. Tony caught his eye and the air between them charged with palpable energy and suddenly Tony found himself stumbling forward towards Steve. He collapsed to his knees an inch away and rested his head on Steve’s hip, hands coming up to wrap around his thighs. He ached to reach out a hand to the zipper on Steve’s jeans, to free the stirring erection that was so close to his mouth. He hesitated, unsure if he should touch, but the look in Steve’s stormy eyes and the hand that came up to run through his curls prompted him into motion._

_He knew it was wrong, knew how undignified and filthy it would be to give Captain America blowjob in front of a crowd of people, but he didn’t care. He popped the button on Steve’s jeans then paused to glance up under his lashes, needing to be sure he had Steve’s undivided attention. When he was sure he did, he caught the with zipper with his teeth and pulled down, pulling away as the jeans loosened. He impatiently tugged down Steve’s underwear until he was finally able to feast his eyes on Steve’s cock. It was hard, jutting out from a nest of light blond curls, and huge, bigger than any Tony had seen before. His slim hand looked tiny in comparison as he wrapped it around the large length, sliding it down in a quick pump. He tightened his grip lightly and was rewarded with a drop of precum leaking out. His eyes followed its trail as it dripped down until it met his fingers and his mouth watered at the sight. He leaned forward, sticking his tongue out, and lapped it up, moaning obscenely at the clean, salty taste._

_Steve’s only reaction was to grunt quietly and thread his fingers through Tony’s curls, using the grip to angle Tony more fully towards his cock. Tony adjusted his hand then, moving it to circle around the base, and then peered up at Steve through his lashes, making sure Steve’s gaze was locked on his lips before he leaned forward and slid Steve into his hot waiting mouth. He flicked the head again, running his tongue along the vein underneath, eliciting a sharp groan from Steve, before leaning further forward and engulfing the whole cock. His jaw was stretched to its limits as he swallowed Steve down, but he forced his muscles to relax and loosen. He didn’t stop moving until he could feel Steve’s cock tickle the back of his throat. His mouth filled with saliva and his jaw was already aching, but it was worth it when he felt Steve’s fingers clench reflexively in his hair. He moaned loudly at the pleasure, pain sensation and forced himself further down, removing his hand when his lips finally reached the base of the cock._

_Tony sucked, bobbing his head, allowing Steve’s cock to tease the back of his throat. He fought the urge to gag, his tight throat pulsing over the tip. Tony heard Steve groan loudly above him, something that would have made Tony smirk if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. He settled instead on starting a quick pace, lips gliding smoothly up and down Steve’s cock, obscene wet sounds breaking the silence every time he moved his head. But when Tony started to hollow out his cheeks and wrap his lips over his teeth, Steve finally broke and took control._

_He tightened his grip in Tony’s hair, fingers clenching, and thrust, hard, once, twice. When Tony didn’t object, he repeated the motion, the head of his cock slamming into the back of Tony’s throat. It made Tony gag lightly, made tears gather at the corners of his eyes, and he wrapped his hands back around Steve’s thighs, holding on while Steve fucked his face._

_Steve’s once firm but gentle grip in Tony’s hair turned brutally tight, as he dragged Tony’s head down to meet his jerking hips. Tony took frantic breaths through his nose, spit drooling past the seal of his lips around Steve’s cock. He couldn’t stop the tears that fell from his eyes as he tried to maintain eye contact, his thick lashes clumped together, blurring Steve’s face. He knew he must look like a mess, but what little he could make out of Steve’s expression looked enthralled. His face was red and sweat dripped from his hair down his neck, but his eyes, gleaming with dangerous arousal, were locked on to the point where his cock slipped into Tony’s mouth._

_It didn’t take long for Steve’s thrusts to turn jerky, and Tony swallowed as more precum slid down his throat. Steve forced his head forward half a dozen more times before he finally held Tony still, almost mashing Tony’s face into his pelvis, and came down Tony’s willing throat with a shout. Tony frantically swallowed as Steve gushed come, but he had to tap hard at Steve’s hips as the seconds ticked on and he didn’t slow down. Steve ripped himself away from Tony, his last shots spraying across Tony’s upturned face. He painted Tony’s pretty flushed face with his come, eyes glinting as he claimed Tony in the most primal way he could._

_Tony squinted his eyes, come dripping from his lashes and then licked his bruised and swollen lips. The salty taste of Steve’s spend made him grin, a tiny thrill shooting through him as he saw Steve watching him. There was something intensely satisfying about making Steve come and wearing his claim on his face. He felt owned, possessed by Steve and the thought made his own neglected cock twitch in his jeans._

Tony groaned around the four fingers he had in his mouth, his other hand a blur on his leaking cock. The idea of being used by Steve in a coffee shop full of people made arousal burn through his veins. He sucked on his fingers hard and then tore them out his mouth, mimicking his fantasy.

“Steve, please- yes, use me,” he moaned softly, running tongue along his lips like he was licking Steve’s come off of them. He could almost taste it, could imagine the salty tang, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He came with a groan, spraying the wall in front of him with his own come.

He slowly opened his eyes, his breath still hitching in his chest, an easy smile on his lips. He felt relaxed yet eager, the worries of his day almost all but forgotten. His right hand still pumped his cock lazily and he shivered a little in oversensitivity. But as he looked down, he could see that he was still hard, the familiar sensation of arousal still burning in his gut.

He shrugged his shoulders and gripped his cock more firmly, certain he had another fantasy he could use for a second round. His last lazy thought as he let his imagination run wild was, _God bless America… and teenage refractory periods._

~*~

CAPTAIN AMERICA ASSAULTS MAN WHO WON’T TAKE ‘NO’ FOR AN ANSWER

The headline was big and bold, splashed across Nick Fury’s office wall.

“Care to explain, Captain?”

“No, sir. I can only say that I was worried about Tony and found him in a dangerous situation and acted to protect him,” Steve said.

He stood with his fingers hooked into his belt, trying to exude a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He knew he had acted irrationally, in a way that Pepper would call a ‘PR disaster’, but he didn’t regret his actions. He meant what he had said to Fury; Tony had been in danger and he had acted to keep him safe. The fact that Tony had left the tower and been in danger as a result of a small argument they’d had was no one else’s business.

J.A.R.V.I.S. had informed Steve within minutes that Tony had left, unsupervised, and a million different worries had rushed into Steve’s brain. What if someone recognized him, what if he was abducted, what if Loki came back? He’d been dismayed to finally find Tony in exactly the kind of situation he’d feared.

Tony was smaller now, slight and weak, and Steve wasn’t sure Tony actually realised how much danger he had been in. Steve could recall the scene in vivid detail, the way that the aggressive young man had sized Tony’s arm, ready to drag him away and the foolhardy way that Tony had stood his ground.

Steve had a suspicion that Tony didn’t truly know how weak he was now, compared to his adult body. Tony, as an adult, had been small but strong. Compact, but with muscles built from years of heavy lifting in his lab. Tony in his current form was skinny and fragile, something that he stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

Steve had kept his distance since their explosive meeting in the hallway, but he’d still been carefully observing Tony with the help of J.A.R.V.I.S. He had seen when Tony had winced as Clint had given his usual ‘bro tap’, a move that had left a bruise on Tony’s delicate skin. He had almost intervened when he had witnessed Tony testing out a new Iron Man armour, his tiny body hurdling into walls as he tried to modify his current suit to fit his younger self. Steve had resisted every urge, confident that J.A.R.V.I.S would let him know if he needed to step in.

He had been unprepared for Tony’s latest rebellion, naively believing that Tony wouldn’t risk discovery by leaving the Tower. Yet here they were, dealing with the aftermath of that little excursion.

“The good news is, the reactions on social media have been largely positive. Apparently, you were seen as a hero, rather than an aggressor,” She said, projecting a twitter feed from her tablet.

“@SteveRogersIsMyDaddy wrote: Sooo, I just saw Captain America punch a guy for not respecting a twink in the Starbucks I’m in. Is this a dream? If so, don’t wake me up. #captainGAYmerica” Maria said aloud. “And @ironmanstan said: getting ready to change my colours #goteamcap. And there’s a lot more where those came from.”

A soft blush crept up Steve’s neck as she read, and he ducked his head slightly.

Nick sighed, massaging his temples. “We’ve been lucky that no one has noticed that the man you defended was Tony Stark, but both of you are on lock down. In fact, we’ll kill two birds with one stone. You are assigned to watch Stark. If he makes any moves to leave the Tower again, you have my full authority to stop him by any means necessary.”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to protest. He didn’t want to spend any more time in Tony’s alluring, seductive presence but the look on Fury and Hill’s faces quelled his complaints.

“Listen Rogers, we all want this nightmare to be over, but until it is, we need to help each other. Stark has always listened to you over the rest of us, so hopefully you can talk some sense into that thick skull of his,” Nick said. He shut down his phone, Maria doing the same with her tablet, and they both exited the room, leaving Steve to his tumultuous thoughts.


End file.
